[Jagged edges of pain shoot through his arm, pieces cutting through nerves and synapses, and Neil realizes he has effectively crippled his own limb from sheer frustration.
Perhaps it is the pain or the blandness in Alex's tones that does the trick. Perhaps he has spent his energy on his emotions. Either way, Neil forces calm. He attempts to find stability, even as his breaths come out harsh and ragged.
He leaves the hand as is, his face contorting further with pain, unable and unwilling to move from the dent.]
Yeah. Right. I'm sorry.
[There is a labored exhale.]
I realized I was wrong about you. In D.C., on the way back to the Mojave, here-- You've showed me how very wrong I was. And that-- Actually caring about me? Voicing that you fucking love me? Telling me things will be okay? The last time Dad told me he loved me, he was long gone. "Not a chance in the world?" "Not with the both of us here?" No one's ever said that to me before!
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Perhaps it is the pain or the blandness in Alex's tones that does the trick. Perhaps he has spent his energy on his emotions. Either way, Neil forces calm. He attempts to find stability, even as his breaths come out harsh and ragged.
He leaves the hand as is, his face contorting further with pain, unable and unwilling to move from the dent.]
Yeah. Right. I'm sorry.
[There is a labored exhale.]
I realized I was wrong about you. In D.C., on the way back to the Mojave, here-- You've showed me how very wrong I was. And that-- Actually caring about me? Voicing that you fucking love me? Telling me things will be okay? The last time Dad told me he loved me, he was long gone. "Not a chance in the world?" "Not with the both of us here?" No one's ever said that to me before!
[He swallows a sob.]
How the hell am I suppose to go back now?